The Escape Artist
by TaleofScales
Summary: Miles and Waylon finally meet up after their time in the asylum, but find a bigger threat looming about. Lisa arrives to visit Waylon, unaware of the events that have taken place. Someone has been watching them from the shadows, and Wernicke's past catches up with him, threatening everyone in the asylum.
1. To kill an Immortal

**A/N: Hey guys, this is my first story, so sorry if it sucks (I'm not the best writer, sadly). Before you start, you should know that it skips through time a bunch- just wanted to put that out now so no one gets confused. Thanks, and enjoy (hopefully) the read!**

* * *

 **September 17th, 2013**

* * *

The lobby falls apart around them as the flames eat their way through the mangled wood. It's a surprise they haven't died yet- gotten crushed by falling planks or suffocated by the smoke snaking its way around them.

 _It's hot_ , he thinks to himself. _Of course it's hot._

His thoughts are in a jumble- nothing can really fully form in his mind. He knows- he remembers everything, but at the same time, he doesn't. The confusion angers him. He knows he's never been like this before. Always logical. Always the one with answers. But now, he was just broken.

He stares on at the figure before him. Sprawled out and broken. The thing he hated the most, but could never avoid. Seeing her in this state gave him some sort of satisfaction. A sick feeling, one he knew his _old_ self would hate. It was ironic, really, how these events unfolded. The very thing she held against them became her downfall.

She holds her hands up in defense, wide eyed, _expecting_ him to come after her.

 _No,_ he thinks. _Not yet._

He looks over his shoulder to address the third body. A broken body in the place of a man- probably unconscious, poor thing. After all he'd been through, who wouldn't break? Even so, he was jealous. That mans' pain was only physical. _He only lost his fingers._ It was nothing compared to what he experienced... what he was forced to endure.

"Waylon-" He turns back to her, eliciting a flinch. He'd almost forgotten she was there.

"Waylon, I'm sorry" She starts, moving slowly as to not provoke him.

 _Funny_. What was this woman to him anymore? _She used to be everything. She was everything. And now? She was begging, but for what? Mercy, perhaps?_ He snickered aloud at that thought. Whatever remained of his sanity had left him long ago.

She was up now, backed up against a wall, observant as an owl in the night, never breaking eye contact.

"I didn't mean to, I swear"

Rage. He felt his anger roar into his ears. Did she really just say that? The _audacity_ \- the _nerve_ \- after all she had done. Like rubbing salt on a wound. Why would he believe her? He didn't want to. He didn't think he had it in him. She was his most trusted- his prized possession, and it all turned out to be a farce. A grand play in which he was the puppet, and her the puppet-master. How easy it must have been for her to lie to him, to _use_ him.

Something finally clicked, and an idea streaked through his jumbled mind. Oh, what an idea it was. A smile etched its way across his face, and he began to step forward, clutching a sleek knife hard until his knuckles turned white.

He saw her now. More clearly. For what she was. For what she is.

* * *

She recognized the look on his face, and at that moment, she knew her fate was sealed. She knows now, that he's too far gone to be called back. No more tricks. No more games. She couldn't get herself out of this mess, and it pissed her off. After all she'd gone through, she thought- no- _knew_ she deserved a better ending. Not this. Never this.

* * *

Oh how he would enjoy this. Seeing her in this state was almost euphoric. He took each step slowly, gauging and savoring her reactions. _Fear._ He knew all too well what she was like.

 _Best Friend._

 _Lover._

 _Wife._

But all that was a lie. Some sick joke.

 _She never loved me. She never loved any of us._

Something else broke in that skull of his. Something he was trying to prevent for what seemed like an eternity. He wasn't the only victim. No, he was far from it. He would make her pay. Make her suffer. For him. For them. For everyone that was ever wronged by her. And he knew just the way to do it.

He was now mere feet across from her. Her heavy breathing could be heard over the now roaring fires overhead. They stand there, acknowledging each other.

"Please, Waylon, I'm sorr-" She made one final attempt at saving herself before being cut off.

 _Thump_. Waylon's vision follows Lisa's head as it roles off her shoulders, and stops it with his foot.

"Whore" He spits.

* * *

 **August 9th 1944**

* * *

 **A/N: Alright guys, this was kinda fun to make, I know it's really sloppy, and all the points are repetitive, that they're too vague, yada, yada, yada, but it would still be great of you to leave feedback. The story will make more sense as you progress, and the next few chapters (If you guys want them) won't make much sense either, but it'll all come together (hopefully) around chapter... say, 4. Or 5. Maybe 15, but highly unlikely, lol.**

 **Also, if you don't get the random date at the end, the way I'm going to be doing chapters is by leaving cliffhangers in the form of a date. It's more time specific, and you can guess your way into and around what will happen. I usually liked stories that were more interactive with the viewers like this. :D**


	2. Plight of the Ancients

**A/N: These are people you already know, but you'll have to figure it out on your own. :)**

 **Also, I'm using Google Translate for any language that isn't English, so sorry if I ruin your eyes with my terrible translations :(**

* * *

He wakes up to a familiar face, and smiles when he realizes that she's been up, too. Looking on into her brilliant hazel eyes, he grins, and notices the sun peaking out from the window behind her.

"Guten morgen, my love" he coos at her.

She laughs- a rich laugh- and gets up from bed.

"How was, uh, your sleep?" he asks, playing innocent.

"Perfekt" she chimes- laughs- and heads to the kitchen, with her graceful onyx locks bouncing behind her.

Too tired from the night before, he just lays there in bed, trying to take in the warmth of the woman. He takes a deep breath, mind wandering back to the time they spent together, sharing each other's bodies, enjoying what they could offer one another. A sigh escapes his lips, and she speaks up from the other room-

"Shouldn't you be going to the lab now, dear?" She pokes her head through the door frame. "Wouldn't want you to be late" She gives him a supportive smile, and just as quickly as she appeared, exits the scene again.

He loved that about her. Her teasing nature. Her loving attitude. Oh, how he just wanted to run away with her and elope under the light of the full moon. But that wouldn't happen. Not during war. Not when they had _so_ much work to do. He hated his work. Hated it with a passion. He was the leader of the project. The smartest of them all. But he couldn't resist. They had threatened to hurt her if he did.

"Rudolf, I'm serious, you should be going now, it's getting really late" She tries again, and with more success this time.

He pulls himself out of bed and follows her into the kitchen. She's been cooking breakfast. She stops at the stove, and lowers the heat, before turning back to him and giving him a peck on the cheeks.

"Stay just a while longer, you have a bit of time, and I wanted to make some breakfast before you go" She holds onto his shoulders, and rests her head on his chest.

"We never spend any time together anymore" She complains.

It's true. Ever since the Allied Forces started pushing the Germans back, the Nazis have been pushing the experiments even further. More, more, more. More people, more frequency, more intensity. He couldn't help but wonder how they were getting the resources, but he already suspected it. He knew all too well what was going on under the medias' propaganda and advertisements. It was sickening.

* * *

After they'd finished breakfast, he placed the dishes in the sink, and returned to his room to get dressed. She followed him in, wrapping her arms around him in a motion as if to make him stay longer.

"When do you think you'll come back?" She asked, her brows knitted.

"I don't know" He replied solemnly, but quickly smiled and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. If only he could make it last like this forever.

* * *

She giggles, looking up at him. He smiled back sheepishly while buttoning his vest on.

"You know you've just made me late, right, dear?" He almost sings, a lovey-dovey look in his eyes. She rolls hers.

"Oh please" She laughs now, the thought of it sending a rush through her body. "You'd do it again if you could" She calms down and places her arms around his neck, looking into his deep brown orbs.

"Don't go" She says, though it sounded to him more like a plead.

"I have to" He sighs. He knows. He hates this too. But he can't end their little session on a sad note like this. He brightens up at the idea, and after hesitating a moment, decides to share it with her.

"Don't worry, we'll make it through this" He's brimming with energy now, his wide smile contagious. "And after all this is over, maybe we ca get married- have kids, even!" She gives a light-hearted laugh, and releases him from her grip.

"Yes, that sounds like a pleasant idea" She looks back up at him, with a new found joy to her. "What would we name them?"

"Oh, I'd like to have two boys" He smiles back, jokingly. "Let's name one Alfonse, and the other Kurt" He beams. He gets another laugh as his response, and he feels his face redden with embarrassment.

"I was thinking more English names, like Austin or William" She countered.

"English? Why English" He inquired.

"Oh, just a feeling" She leaned back against a wall. "I feel like we should move to America after all this. To prevent us from being like we are now ever again" He nods, giving her a knowing look.

"Well then, I'll just have to get ready for the plans" He grins, giving her one last kiss before heading out the door. "Look forward to being called 'Marilese Wernicke' from now on!" He said, expecting the response he got from her.  
"I've told you already!" She laughs. "I hate that name- just call me Lisa!".

* * *

 **September 14th, 2013**

* * *

 **A/N: The chapter titles also give kinda vague hints on where the story goes, and there can be time skips during the middle of chapters- just a heads up. Thoughts would be appreciated. :D I'm bad at romance, please critique as hard as you can XD**


	3. The beginnings of a Disaster

**A/N: Omg, I did not expect writing a story would be this hard. I've got all the ideas and plot planned out already- has been for weeks, but the hardest thing is putting your ideas into words to make the actual story! I appreciate everyone's work so much more now that I'm one of the people creating like them.**

* * *

 **September 13th, 2013, 10PM**

* * *

Something catches his eye as he stalks down the dark and bloody hallway. It stirs- a shadow moving quickly past the intersecting corridor ahead of him. He's taken aback, nearly tripping over one of the many dead bodies strewn across the floor.

His heart is pounding in his chest. He doesn't know what it is. It didn't look human, but there was something familiar about it. It was like the feeling you got when you had an imaginary friend- you thought you knew, but you really didn't.

 _God_ , what was he thinking? He could feel this places' influence creeping through his veins. His thoughts weren't straight. He thought he saw things. Everything that could ever be thought of was working against him now.

He held his camera in front of him and switched the night vision on for a better view. It was already gone, but he wasn't convinced.

 _You can't trust anyone...,_ He reminded himself, as he started towards where the figure had been. _Not even yourself._

He had been running, but somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten who he was running from. It was a mistake coming here. He knew that now. What was that saying again? 'Better late than never'? _Bullshit_ , he scowled, angry at himself for the situation he'd gotten himself in. He should have left when he had the chance. He did have a chance. Many chances, actually. The thought made him furious. His own ambition and ego had gotten him here, and it sure as hell wasn't helping him out of it.

Something big falls behind him, producing an audible, echoing boom throughout the block. He flinches, and when he realizes it isn't a person, scoffs at himself. He tries to shake the thought of the dark mass, and only then begins to realize the danger he's in.

The sound was still resonating throughout the walls. _Shit_. He might as well have announced his presence to the entire asylum, and he did not want to stay to figure out who'd come find him. He looked back to where he came from and found out what had fallen. Random tables and chairs that had not been there before had been lined up in a blockade behind him almost _perfectly_. He didn't question it, he was in too much of a rush to leave the area.

He turned to the only exit left- the area where the mass was. _Crap._ He didn't get a chance to second guess himself, his thoughts disrupted by the sudden screeches behind him.

All of the sudden, he was bolting straight through the hallway, not caring what lied ahead. His pursuer- _pursuers_ were right behind him. Had they moved the tables so quickly? He'd heard another bang before he sprinted off, but wasn't too sure on what it was- nor did he care to figure it out.

 _Whatever went through here, they probably know where they're going is safe_ , he reasoned with himself. He allowed himself to be at least hopeful.

The hallway was nearing an end, with a door that was slightly ajar waiting for him. Hope. That was his mistake this time. If that room turned out to be a dead end, he was screwed. He knew that. But he had to take the chance. He had to at least try _something._

Ignoring their insults and shouts, he managed to pull of one final sprint towards the door, slamming it behind him. Eyeing the room wildly, he realized his suspicions were correct. No more exits. No more doors.

He held his back against the door, bracing himself for when they got to him. He at least wanted to stall them for a minute or two. Get his thoughts together. Say his final mental goodbyes. With eyes slammed shut, he waited for the inevitable.

His silence was broken by a voice somewhere in the room. His eyes flew open, scanning the area for any new threats he might have missed, and they ended up on the gated square on the wall. He noticed it now, the dumbwaiter.

"Who's down there?" a voice asked. "You're not one of them, are you? Quick! Get in the dumbwaiter if you want to live!".

He didn't have time to argue. The door behind him buckled harshly, knocking the air out of his lungs.

"I want my money! I want my money!" He heard one of them yell behind him.

With no other options, he let out a huff, and charged towards the opposite end of the room. In one quick and fluid movement, he'd gotten in the dumbwaiter. He watched from across the room as the door busted open, three patients charging straight at him. Just as one was getting near, the dumbwaiter raised itself.

 _Damnit. Damnit all._ Any second longer, and he would have been dead.

After he calmed himself a bit, and he could form coherent thoughts better, the idea dawned upon him. Did he know this guy? Could he trust him? He sounded sane, right? He couldn't be the only sane person in this goddamn place, could he?

He let himself smile at the thought of another sane person. It made him feel good. The very aspect of not being alone in this place- being able to talk to another _normal_ person.

All his thoughts were shattered when the dumbwaiter reached the top. Low and behold his _savior_ , in all his glory.

Miles stared at him, wide eyed. Frozen with terror. What the hell had he just done? Stupid. Stupid. So stupid. He made a mental note somewhere in the recesses of his mind- marked this as another one of his many mistakes. _Trust._

"You made the right choice" His new captor grinned, before slamming his fist into his face, shattering his vision into an oblivion of darkness.

* * *

 **8 hours earlier 2AM**

* * *

 _An union router... A firewall patch? A borrowed laptop?_ What had he been thinking? It was the perfect formula for failure. He'd done this to himself. He put himself in this situation, and now he was stuck here, amidst the horror that was slowly unfolding around him.

 _Something_ happened. Something _big_. He knew that much, but he just couldn't figure out _what_. Nothing logical, at least. But that's what he had to be- logical. It was the only thing keeping him sane at this point.

Everything had happened so fast. The guards caught him. He went through the engine- his own programming. Then there was the breakout. Patients, guards, everyone screaming, yelling, running about. Among the crowd jumbled bodies, he saw something like what you'd see in a story you tell to scare your kids.

It was a dark figure. Human, but not human at the same time. It was indescribable. It seemed to be floating above the crowd, staring down at them all with a look he couldn't discern. _Anger? Pity? Disgust_. It was like a cloud of smoke had come together to form it. It was... it was-

It was extraordinary. Unreal. Illogical. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

It was his imagination. It had to be.

Every now and then, his vision would blur, and he'd see rorschach images trailing across his eyes, and occasionally he'd see , far off in the distance, the cloud. He'd seen it up close before. Twice actually. The second time, he tried to film it, but the camera wouldn't pick anything up. He took that as a good sign. He'd rather believe he was going nuts then have that creature be real. It couldn't be. It _shouldn't_ be.

He was stopped in his tracks when his leg caught on something. A stray plank of wood, chipped off from the wall had been laying on the ground, and in his thoughts, he failed to notice. He cursed under his breath as the soreness registered.

His leg had been injured earlier from a chase. He looked back at the situation and as serious as he knew it was, couldn't help laughing at himself. It was stupid, really. Falling down an elevator shaft, and then to have your ankle broken by a shard of wood that shouldn't have been there in the first place. Dumb luck. What were the chances of that happening? Of _any_ of this happening? All of the sudden his logic wasn't helping him out like it used to. That wasn't what was bothering him though.

Minutes before, back on the elevator, he saw someone else. Looking past the self proclaimed 'Groom', he saw an old woman, standing in the elevator frame above his. The groom- Eddie didn't seem to notice where he was looking, too focused on his loss to care.

"You'd rather... die than be with me?" He asked, the red sores on his face stretching as the corners of his mouth drooped. "Then die" He turned away and left him, the lady above still looking down on the scene.

Something about her was different. She wasn't a patient, he knew that. Something about women not working correctly during the experiments? He wanted to call out to her. Ask her something. He opened his mouth to speak out, and was stopped by the sudden movement of the elevator. It buckled and groaned softly, before starting to rise. His chance was missed, he rolled onto the first floor. He couldn't risk another meet up with Eddie if the elevator got up any further.

It was strange. Something about her struck him as familiar.

His memory was interrupted when an all too familiar voice reached his ears. _No. Nonono-._ He turned to face the source of the voice, heart rate rising, wide-eyed. He brought up his camera to his face, quickly switching over to night vision, in order to see what he already knew was there.

Upon the screen, he could see the face of his would-be murderer, smiling with glee like a child on Christmas who'd just opened a present.

"There you are, darling!"

* * *

 **September 12th, 2013 11PM**

* * *

 **A/N: Also jumping across characters, so keep watch for that. Try to remember any character that's mentioned, they'll usually appear later on in the story in more important roles.**


	4. The path to Asylum

**A/N: I am treading on some unstable ground right now, writing about national socialist parties and religious concepts... Please don't get mad if I get something wrong or if anything comes off as offensive. I respect all opinions and views, and remember, this is just a story, I'm not attacking or bashing anyone's' beliefs.**

* * *

She decided it'd be best if she brought their first son with her. It'd been so long since they've met. How long ago was it that he last touched him? Back then he was still a baby. How fast time flew by. It'd been _years_.

She drove forward to the booth, waiting for an administrator to poke their head out and ask for ID.

 _It's been a while now,_ She thought to herself.

"Mommy, what's taking so long?" The child asked from the backseat, irritation in his voice. She gives him the look through her rear view mirror. That shut him up. She scolded herself silently after that, frustrated with herself. What had gotten into her? She was being unfair to him.

"Look, honey, I'm sorry. I'm trying here" She started. She watched him nod in approval before continuing her speech. "It's just been a really, _really_ long day. It'll only be a little while longer, then we can see daddy, okay?" He thought on the proposal, the frown dissipating from his face and replaced with new found joy.

"Yeah!" He agreed.

She gave a light laugh. How lucky she was to be a parent. It was almost comedic- the way their expressions could change so easily. Like they had no care in the world.

She frowned. How long had it been? She turned back to the booth. Still empty.

"Wait here" She proclaimed, before gathering her nerve and leaving the car.

She glanced around the entrance of the gate, looking around for any signs of life. She called out. No answer. When she was sure no one was watching, she stood in the middle of the driveway, and closed her eyes. Something was wrong. She could feel it. A familiar tingle ran its' course up the back of her neck. This feeling, she was familiar with. A heavy breath left her lips, and they curled up into a smug grin. _It was time_.

She turned back to the car, checking to see if the boy was still where she left him. Heading back inside, she gave decided it would be best if she left him in the dark. He would be more of use to her this way.

"Look" she spoke first, not wanting to hear anymore of his complaints. "Mommy's going to move the car someplace else, and then you stay here a little longer before I come back for you, okay?" He nodded, knowing better than to argue. Especially when she was tired like this.

She pulled out of the driveway and made a left, parking someplace in the shallow forest. It wouldn't be hard to find it, if you knew what you were looking for, but it could be easily overlooked if you didn't pay close attention. Satisfied with her work, she left the child again, heading back towards the driveway. She could feel someone watching her. She turned back to the gates, and noticed a small glassy bulb facing her. Perhaps a camera? It didn't matter though. No one would see.

She let out a sigh, and closed her eyes again, focused. Concentrating.

There was a second gate beside the main one. A side entrance. With the angle the camera was facing her, it wouldn't be able to see anyone leaving or entering from that side. _Perfect._

She started humming a soft tune to herself, focusing her attention on the smaller gate. It was locked, she knew that much.

With her concentration at its' peak, she held her palm out into the space in front of her, and pulled it back into a fist. Following her movements, the gate snapped open, letting out a high pitched squeak.

 _Phew_. She sighed again, turning to face the car. _Anymore, and that might have exploded._ She smiled at that. It's been a long time since she'd done that. She'd forgotten the rush it gave her, but she restrained herself from pushing it. No, she'd have to save her energy for later.

She almost left through the gate when the realization dawned upon her. She allowed herself to laugh at herself, just a little, before turning back to the car.

"Austin!" She called out. "Honey, you can come out now! C'mon, follow mommy" She watched as he plopped out the car and scurried towards her, a wide grin streaking his chubby face. She returned the smile as he caught up to her, before holding her hand out for him to take. "We're almost there, honey" She said. "Just a little more" She turned to face the asylum.

* * *

 **September 12th, 2013 11:30PM**

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, I just realized that I was rushing the story and had to move the original version of this chapter back in order to make the one you're reading now. Ugh, pacing is also something I suck at. Sorry for burning your eyes out of their sockets. Oh, and if you couldn't figure it out, this person is Lisa. You can interpret her gate-opening skills however you like, they'll become more apparent later on in the story.**


	5. Clash in the Rain

**A/N: Actual coherent story? Maybe. Chapter 4 was the start of the present-day timeline, chapter 2 was an early part of the past timeline. The story will alternate from past and present. The first chapters were the most important ones in my opinion, so I just wanted to put them out there first, so that as the story builds on, it makes more sense. Chapter 1 was around the middle to end of the first story arc, and I'm planning to have two. Hope this isn't too confusing for you ;)**

* * *

Big mistake. It was an accident coming here. What had happened?

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Broken bodies littered the lobby before her, and she quickly held a hand over her son to cover his view. _Shit_. Too late. He probably caught a glimpse of the scene, whimpering as he cowered closer to her.

"It's going to be okay" She attempted at a reassuring tone, but to no avail.

"Mommy, what was that?" He asked, though she knew he already figured out the answer himself. He was smart. _Just like his father,_ She thought.

Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

* * *

Running. It's dark, but she can see just fine. The darkness was her ally. It kept her alive. It kept them _both_ alive.

Cradling Austin in her arms, she sped through the flurry of the- what, a court yard? She couldn't tell. The pitter-patter of the rain around her dulled her senses. She couldn't even see past the thick wall of water in front of her. Crying. Austin was crying into her shoulders. _Damnit._

Too many mistakes. She shouldn't have brought him here. She should have left him with his brother at her sister-in-law's house, safe in her care, away from _here_.

Too dangerous. No turning back now. There's still unfinished business she needed to attend to. A calling? You could call it that. But to what? She knew 'where', 'who' and 'when', but what about the 'why' and 'how'? She couldn't make sense of this. Not on her own. _God, if only Waylon were here with us_. He'd know what to do. He could always make sense of something. He always knew how to make something amazing and comprehensible look plain and logical.

She was tired. All she wanted to do was to stop and rest. No, Austin wouldn't allow it. Waylon would just encourage her, telling her to keep fighting. She couldn't fight back outright, no- Austin would see. He would figure out, and he might snitch. She couldn't allow that. Not now. No, she'd have to wait this one out. Only until she got what she wanted. What she _needed_.

Out of nowhere, a figure appeared through the rainfall, colliding with her, sending them both backwards. She clung to Austin like he was her lifeline- no, she would not let him out of her grasp. She hit the floor with a thud, an audible 'snap' resonating through her side. She hissed out of pain, and quickly looked over to address their attacker. He had stumbled back, and scrambled back up with alarming speed. He held something in his hand- a weapon? Probably. She'd noticed the other patients running around the place with all sorts of objects they used for weapons.

She quickly felt out Austin for any injuries before returning her gaze to the stranger. He looked familiar.

"Oh my god" The realization hit her like a bus. He seemed to make the connection at the same time. "W-Waylon? Is that you?" Was all she could manage.

"Holy shit" Was her reply. The man before her gawked at her, as if he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing- as if he had seen a ghost. He then followed up with a smile.

Confusion. Happiness. Relief. Those were the emotions she could read off his roughed up expression.

"Lisa?"

* * *

 **A/N: I think I'm going to work more on Lisa and Waylons' side before moving on to Miles. Not to say that I'm only going to be writing their side; there will be bits and pieces of Miles thrown in their for story progression, but the focus right now will be on these two. Up until the point where a flashback is needed, that is. Those wont be coming up for a while, the story needs to progress a little further before I get into those points.**


	6. A Light among the Darkness

**A/N: I lied, lol. Originally, I was going to cut to Miles, and have Waylon and Lisa catch up with each other between the chapters, but then I realized that what I had planned for Miles came way further down the story then I thought. I decided to experiment on this chapter instead, using the viewpoint of an outside character. I was going to have it from Waylons' view, but it would've been hard to explain it in the actual story, so I changed it to the patient in question- You'll get it soon.**

* * *

 **September 13th, 2014 1:30AM**

* * *

"Crazy Bitch..." He muttered to himself, stalking through a maze of shelves.

 _This is stupid_ , he thought to himself. It was. He'd been walking around these same halls for hours now, repeating the same lines to random patients passing through, only to chase them downstairs into the Grooms' territory. He'd almost gotten killed several times by these people too. That wouldn't stop him though. No- he feared _her_ much worse.

 _Damn Witch,_ He continued.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure _what_ she was. The old lady- at least, he assumed she was- had appeared before him out of nowhere. She might've looked prettier when she was younger, you could still notice the way her skin radiated through what little light the speckled windows provided. Her snow white, waist length hair flowed behind her, as if their were a gust in the room. He was speechless. There hadn't been any female anybody's here for years, and the first one he sees looks like something out of a fairy tale.

"Hello"

He was startled when she spoke up. Her voice certainly didn't match with the age he'd assigned her to. No, it was younger, more pristine.

"I need your help" She began, moistening her lips as if preparing herself for a speech.

She lost him at that. No way in hell was he going to help _anyone_. He didn't owe her. He didn't even know her. All he wanted was to get out.

"Look lady, I don't know who you think you ar-" He tried to think of the nicest way he could deny her, before being thrown back by an invisible force, his back slamming hard against the floor. Her smile deepened, and she let out a sweet laugh. Under different circumstances, his heart would have melted for this girl, but right now, it seemed like something from a horror movie.

"Did I tell you that you had a choice?" She asked condescendingly, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What the he-" suddenly, his voice stopped working too. What was happening? Thoughts were racing throughout his head before he realized that he couldn't move any part of his body.

"Shhh" She placed a finger on her lips, a satisfied grin plastered on her ghastly pale face. "Quiet now, dear. Don't you know it's rude to interrupt a girl when she's talking to you?" She stepped over to his frozen body, leaning in to get a better view on him.

"See, right now, you're the only one sane enough to understand and carry out what I'm going to tell you" She pulled a file out of thin air. "See?" She opens it and points to a line somewhere on the page, reading aloud "'Has not yet been effected by the engine' right there". When she notices the blank look on his face, she scoffs and throws the folder over her shoulder.

"Everyone else is too out of their minds to predict. Crazy people- you never know what they'll do" She shrugged and stood back up, starting to pace around him. "You can never _really_ know what's going on in their minds, you know?" She asked, mocking curiosity. "Sane people, however," She turned to face him again, "Are much more easier to control. Whether we like it or not, everyone's natural instinct is to survive, right?" She had a point. "The second best thing would be to gain favorable living conditions, or something similar" She held her chin with her hand, as if deep in thought. "So here's what I need you to do for me" She trailed off and began chatting away.

Now he found himself pretending to be someone else- a patient named Dennis, or whatever- walking around the same jumble of shelves, and acting like a complete idiot by squawking to himself in mock conversations.

He could care less about her plan. Something to do with distracting a 'Waylon', whatever that was. Probably some other patient. She said she needed him out of her way or something of the sort. He didn't care about the rest. Everything around him was going to shit, anyway. Did any of this make sense? Hell no. But could he do anything about it? The thought made his anger boil.

Here he was, surrounded by fucking crazies, with some bat-shit playboy grandma with superpowers ordering him to send crazy patients to an even crazier one in order for the latter to chop off their dicks- and get this- 'in order to distract them'! He knew then that he would be in for a whole lot of shit once this was over, and that was only _if_ he made it out.

She told him that this job would be over soon, but that he'd have to go down to the sewers to complete another task she laid out- something to do with stalling a reporter.

"Shh, I think I heard something" A voice shattered his thoughts, and he leaned behind one of the shelves, preparing himself for another act. He heard someone else- _a kid?_ \- whining about something before being shushed by a third voice. His veins froze over when it's familiar tone synced into his eardrums.

"Austin, be quiet!" It said.

He couldn't forget that voice. But what was she doing here? He was doing his job. Was she coming to move him? Was his job done already? The last patient he handed over to the Groom had been well over an hour ago, was that the Waylon that she was talking about? And, of all the things, why was there a kid with her?

He was about to step out of hiding to confront her before being stopped by a tug on his leg. He managed a squeal before being muffled by a black fog. At that, he lost his balance and crashed to the ground.

The party on the other side of the room jumped at the ruckus, heads turning to see what had happened. None of them dared investigate.

He turned face up to the white haired lady, a long shadow cast down on her face. It almost made her look menacing. She was staring down with a frown, and for a moment, he thought this was it- that she had run out of uses for him, and was going to cast him aside.

She broke the silence first. In a whispering voice, barely audible, she spoke.

"Change of plans" She smiled at that. "This guy's good. He's earlier than I expected. You're going to the sewers early" A pause.

"Don't worry" His vision clouds up, a dark mist working its' way around his body. "I'll take it from here" She flashes her pearly teeth one last time as the darkness drags him out of the room.

* * *

 **A/N: I suuuuuck at this. Sorry for excessive profanity, also sorry if you were offended. I figured my writing was too bland and needed something more dynamic to spice things up. If you didn't get it, this Lady is very important. Hint- she's the same person Waylon sees above Eddie when he was on the elevator.**


	7. In memory of ---

**A/N: Continued from chapter 2~ Also, I'm going back through the chapters to fix grammar and spelling. I wont fix the story or writing, not now. Maybe later, when I've got the time.**

* * *

 **September 13th, 2014 3AM**

* * *

Captured. With his hands tied behind him, the Groom led him on.

She'd explained to him how she was their earlier, before they were chased down to the Groom by some black mass. He'd tried to listen to their conversation, but he was more focused on keeping watch to ensure nothing would jump up at them. He'd picked up the important bits: She left their other kid, Will, at his sister's house. At least he was safe. At least he wasn't _here_.

Somewhere along the way, he'd been separated from Lisa and Austin. It was probably around the elevator. They could fit through the rubble blocking the other end of the path, but he was forced to jump into the shaft. _Good_. At least they were safe. His thoughts were shattered by an ear splitting scream from somewhere inside the building.

* * *

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"We'll meet up again!" Waylon promised her before jumping down the elevator shaft. What was he thinking? She couldn't do anything but trust him, now.

She held Austin at arms-length behind her as she started down the worn down path. This part of the asylum looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. Something about it seemed off. She felt something watching. Waiting.

"Austin-" She started, barely above a whisper. "Austin, honey, I need you to step ba-" Her warning was cut off by a high pitched muffle. It caught her by surprise- she hadn't heard anyone get behind her, and there weren't any openings besides the hole in the rubble to get behind them. Turning on the heel of her foot, she searched out frantically for the source of the sound.

If anything happened to their child, Waylon would never forgive her. Hell, she would never forgive herself. In the span of two seconds, her eyes had locked onto its' target.

Suspended in midair and covered in a black fog, Austin could do nothing but look on in fear.

What could she do? This fog- this static- she was familiar with it. She knew what it was. She was in control. As if reading her mind, a voice spoke out behind her.

"But you aren't the only one" She turned, startled by the voice. It sounded like-

Adrenaline rushed through her veins. Whoever it was, they were controlling the swarm. If she could knock them out- or even distract them, their hold on her son would weaken.

Static roared in her ears as her own swarm surged out of her. She didn't care if Austin saw, if it meant he didn't have to die. She unleashed a volley of darkness towards the attacker. Time froze in her head. No- she had frozen.

The darkness had stopped mere feet from their target, now smiling as if they were proud of an accomplishment. It was then that she noticed her features. It was like looking into a mirror. Besides the white hair, they were nearly identical.

"Now, now, Lisa," The other woman started. _Wait,_ Lisa flinched. _How do you know my name?_ Lisa wanted to ask, but her lips wouldn't move. None of her would.

"Everything will make sense to you soon," She waved her hand, causing all the black particles to retreat back to their owner. "Now, you might have noticed-" She paused, as if searching for the right words. "-What you might have felt was a _calling_ , so to speak".

Lisa wasn't focused on the conversation. She was too busy worrying about her son. This lady, she was something else. They were almost the same, but not quite. She wanted answers, but not if they led to her family's demise.

Reading the expression on her face, the woman gave a smug laugh, chilling Lisa to the bone. "Don't worry, dear, I wont hurt the boy" She flicked her wrist, and the mass carrying Austin moved to her side. "This child serves me better alive" She chided. "Leverage, one might say. I only need him now to keep your attention" She took a step forward. Then two, and suddenly, she was standing right in front of Lisa, milky brown eyes staring into her own brilliant hazel.

"What I am about to tell you might come as a surprise-" Lisa hated this woman's' speech. She rolled her words at the end of her phrases and had an awful German accent. "I'll give you the answers you seek, but in turn, you must do as I say" She held up Lisa's chin. "Although I doubt you'll find my tasks difficult to accomplish".

She turned back to Austin, still floating behind her. He was passed out now, no doubt drunk from fear. "I'll erase his memories for now-" Turning back to face Lisa. "And I'll return yours while I'm at it"

She dug her fingers into Lisa's temples, the latter gasping from the sudden touch. Static seared through her head, and she felt her eardrums might pop. Images, events, scenes unfolded in her mind- all at once. It was overwhelming her. She felt that she might break. Her vision shattered around her, the gaps being filled up with more images, coming into place like pieces of a puzzle. It felt like her brain was on fire. Then, there was a snap, and everything turned to black.

* * *

A scream resonated throughout the walls. It sounded... Oh, god. He wanted to call out, run towards the source, anything to be of use. He turned back to his captor with a look of defeat. He could beg- he could plead him for release. He would try anything to get back to his wife and child. He would never forgive himself if... if... -No. He couldn't think like that. _They're alive_ , He told himself. _They have to be._

* * *

"Our children will be beautiful" He spoke up, breaking the awkward silence between him and his soon-to-be bride.

'Bride'. The thought struck him as odd. He didn't even know his own bride's name! He chuckled aloud at that, causing the smaller man to flinch. "Don't worry, darling," He smiled as they neared their destination. "Just a little more~" He chimed, as they entered a cramped room. "Here" He said, before flicking on the lights.

The sudden brightness startled the other man, ducking away before his eyes adjusted. His grip on the restraints loosened a bit as he searched for a chair somewhere in the room. Something he could use to tie his bride down. So that she wouldn't run. A scream shook him from his thoughts. He'd have to check what happened later. Now, he was too focused on the task at hand.

Finding no chair in sight, he snarled, opting for the wooden beam by his workplace. The other man seemed alarmed by the blood, almost calling out. There was a small struggle, but Eddie was stronger- a lot stronger. Holding him down by the chest, Eddie grabbed another pile of rope from a nearby table. "Stay... still!" He whispered sharply, the consequences implied. Standing the other man up, he continued wrapping the man until he was sure he couldn't get free.

It looked uncomfortable, standing there against the wall, so Eddie moved a nearby cart to use as a seat. "Here, sit down," He suggested. He was hiding his irritation now. "You-" Steadying his voice, he attempted to start a conversation. "You haven't said _anything_ since we've met" He didn't mean for it to come out as an accusation. The other man remained silent.

He shot up, standing at full height, now. "Say something!" He shouted, anger boiling inside him. What he got was a yelp, followed by a small whimper. At least it was something.

Satisfied, he took a step back, turning on his heel. "You'll have to wait here" His voice was calm now. "I know you must be just as eager as I am to consummate our love-" He turned back at the man, waiting for a response. When none was provided, he continued, despite himself. "-But try to enjoy the anticipation.

Grabbing something off a shelf, he backtracked towards the man, still whimpering like an idiot. "Here, darling. This will help you relax" He sprayed a strong anesthetic, surprising the other man, before he went limp, awkwardly leaning on the support beam.

"Now that that's out of the way," Eddie sighed, turning to the exit. "Let's go see what that scream was all about"

* * *

 **A/N: I really need to be more consistent with my chapters, omg. I thought I could have them all be around 900 words, then I realized that most of the chapters were just me complaining about how bad at writing I was. I will... try to stop that. Sorry if it bothered you.**


	8. What Was

**May 10th, 1949**

* * *

"Are you ready?" She questions, her arm wrapped tightly around his.

Wernicke had some relatives back in the states, who had sponsored a visa for them soon after the war ended. It was tough getting it approved, but Wernicke, being recognized for his contributions in the mathematical and scientific communities, was eventually accepted. After four years of paperwork and planning, they were finally moving.

"Of course," He replied. His mind was somewhere else.

"We can start over again, we- we can-" She couldn't contain it- her excitement. They had planned and planned, and even if it wasn't serious, it felt like it could come true. The life they've always wanted. _It seemed too good to be true._

She was stopped by a nudge. Ahead of them was the porter, waiting rather impatiently for them to show their tickets. "Sorry" she replied quickly, handing over their slips. A nod was exchanged, and they boarded quietly. Sighing as they passed, the voice spoke up from behind them.

"Mr. Wernicke , sir?" They turned. "The captain wanted a word with you-" He turned to Marilese. "In private".

* * *

 _It's been a while, now,_ She paced back and forth in their cabin, gnawing on the side of her cheeks. It was an old habit. She turned to the clock above the headboard of their bed. _Two hours_.

A knock on the door signaled an end to her worries. Half-running towards the door, her heart dropped when she found what awaited her on the other side. "Rudol-"

"Hey" He whispered. His eyes were puffed and pink from crying. His shoulders sagged as if they bore the weight of the world. Tired creases etched their way down his face. What happened? It looked like he'd been in an argument of some kind. He shuffled passed her, ignoring her attempts at comforting him. Placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek, he crashed face-down onto the bed.

Not one to take 'no' for an answer, she sat herself on the edge of the bed. "What happened?" He murmured something into the pillow. "What?" She moved closer, laying down beside him. He half-turned to face her.

"It's about the visa" He began, his voice wavering dangerously. "You- yours' is fine. It's the one we planned on- the family based." He flipped himself over, facing the ceiling. "Mine's different- it's employment- the government wants me to do research for them."

 _Research?_ "What type? Is it- do they know about- you know, _the project_?"

He forced himself to look her in the eyes. He couldn't bear the disappointment he anticipated. There was none- just worry. He admired the way she could compose herself, never wavering from any obstacle that came her way. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come. She probably noticed, clearing her voice and speaking in his place.

"Doesn't matter" She tried to sound confident- tried to make everything less horrible than it actually was. "We'll get through this- together. I can come with you, right? To-"

"Lake Country" He interjected. Her optimism was contagious. His voice picked up, more hopeful. "Mount Massive Asylum- That's where I- we'll be going. Where I'll be working."

"Right" She smiled, wiping away a tear from his cheeks. "We'll make it" Fatigue was setting in on the both of them, now. "We'll... make it" She yawned as they were swept away into their dreams.

* * *

 **November 12th, 1967**

* * *

"YOU LIAR!" The words boomed through the corridor, echoing off his bones. Static. A hideous buzz rang in his ears. Other employees- scientists, security, even patients- they were all evacuated. But not him, no- he couldn't believe what they told him.

* * *

 _"Lateral ascension" A voice picked up from across the lab. "Marilese Wernicke has reached lateral ascension!"_

That was the last thing he heard before the alarms started going off. Evacuation procedures were blaring through the loudspeakers, playing on repeat. It all happened so fast- he wasn't sure if he should be overjoyed or horrified. He had to see her for himself. He had to hold her again- talk to her, even! He raced pass his supervisor, who was conversing with some officer. _"It has to be contained"_ Was all he heard before bolting out the door.

* * *

Now, standing before his beloved, he had no idea what to do. She was standing before him, still in the patients' rags that they'd left her in months ago. A black swarm was storming around her, like a self-contained tornado, leaving streaks and claw marks along the hallway. Her hair was colorless, rendered white from the experiments.

"Wh-What have you DONE to me!?" She screamed. A dark claw shot out, just grazing his thigh.

It looked like it hurt. Blood oozed from an ugly gash. In place of the pain was a stinging numbness. He staggered, struggling to keep himself up.

"This! This is what you call _LOVE_?" Another wave hit him in the chest, knocking him over. "I'll make you pay!" His vision was fading. "I'll make all of you suffer!"

* * *

He came to on a bed- a hospital, he assumed from the red cross glowing above the pair of doors across from him. A man in uniform walked through the doors, gazing at a newspaper in his hands. He gave a surprised look when he caught a glimpse of Wernicke, who was still half awake from the anesthetics being pumped into his arm from an IV.

"Holy shit, man" The man laughed. He was probably in his early teens- too young to be in uniform. "We thought you'd never wake up" The words fought for a place in his mind, before settling.

"Wait..." He started. "What do you mean? What day is it?" He tried to sit up, but was stopped by a pain firing up his leg.

The man scoffed. "More like 'What year'" He offered Wernicke the newspaper he was holding on to. Not waiting for an answer, he tossed the paper on Wernicke's lap.

'Mount Massive Closed After Four Years Of Opening' It read.

 _Four years? The hell? It's only been open for a couple months._ His eyes flicked to the date.

'May 17th, 1971'

"It was a good thing you woke up when you did, too" The officer spoke again, after noticing the look of dismay on the other man's face. "We were just about to unplug you" The realization came before he said it. "You've been in a coma for almost four years"

* * *

 **January 12th, 1967**

* * *

"-We present to you: The Grand Opening of Mount Massive Asylum!"

* * *

 **A/N: I just figured out that I got the dates in Outlast and the DLC confused with the release date... I'm going to change those soon, bear with me.**


	9. The things we hold dear

**A/N: Flashbacks are really annoying to write... I'll go more in-depth into the previous chapter later on in the story. Giving all that information and motive seems too early- so that's the only snippet you guys get for now P: *Sorry for not updating earlier, this chapter was supposed to be out weeks ago. I haven't been able to work on anything recently because, well... I have no excuses. I'll try to update more. Also, I had this second Outlast story in mind, about Miles, Waylon, and Lisa being friends, and growing up together. There are a lot of connections, and if I modify it, it would work with this story as well. I've been revising this story to include some elements in the second one, because I figured writing both of them would be too difficult, and because I'm lazy.**

* * *

 **September 17th, 2013 10:45PM**

* * *

'Where the hell are you taking me?' was what Miles wanted to say. His vision was foggy, and his ears rang almost painfully. He tried tugging at the restraints, but his body wouldn't move.

"-a little cardio wouldn't kill you-" He heard through pieces of his consciousness. He fought to stay awake for as long as he could, afraid that if he let himself rest, that he wouldn't wake up. Sleeping would be the same as giving up.

Moving. A turn. A muffled voice.

"-Run free!" He wanted to run. His head swung upwards to view whatever escape his captor offered. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, lighting up the doorway that would be his escape. He flinched.

Someone was standing at the doorway. Either his captor didn't notice, or he didn't care. "No? Alright. Nose to the grindstone, I like that."

The world was shaking, and suddenly, he was somewhere else.

* * *

 **November 5th, 2012**

* * *

He was huddled against someone else. Her warm body against his. There was heavy rainfall outside. How long had they been here?

He rolled off to the side and sat up. Was the Asylum a dream? It had to be. This was normal. It felt normal. It _was_ normal. This was a regular day, the Asylum was just a nightmare, and everything would go on as it had before. There had been no 'accident', and he was still a father of two- soon three. Someone shifted beside him.

"Miles?" She yawned, grabbing at the empty space he was in. When she found nothing, she looked up, chuckling when she spotted him. "You're up so early" She sat up beside him.

He didn't know what to say. Words couldn't express his relief. It was just a dream. "Lisa," He placed a hand on her face, just to make sure. "I missed you so much" He places his forehead against hers.

"What're you talking about?" She laughed. "I'm right here."

"I know," He let out a sigh. "I just- never mind." He gave her a reassuring smile.

She stared back sheepishly. "You're such a dork" She flicked his forehead and laughed again. "I've gotta get the kids up," She stood, starting towards the doorway. "Need anything for work?"

"I'm good" He said, ruffling his hair. The feeling of normalcy was a bit derailing. The dream felt so visceral. It was best not to think about it too deeply. He got up and headed to the bathroom.

He was quick. Had to be in his field of work. Interviews, appointments, reports, you couldn't be late for anything. He scanned the room for clothes with his toothbrush hanging from his mouth. He threw on whatever looked clean. Nothing too spectacular. Just a white tee-shirt, a plain black jacket, and some khakis.

He heard their small voices before he turned the doorknob. Smiling, he walked out to greet his kids.

"Daddy!" A little girl in a purple onesie wobbled towards him, arms outstretched, with a huge smile plastered on her face.

"Nadia!" He called back, picking her up and placing a kiss on her forehead. They both laughed in each other's embrace before being interrupted by Lisa.

"Hey," She pouted. "How come mommy doesn't get a hug?" She crossed her arms, feigning sadness.

"Daddy says mommy becomes a hideous ogre when she gets hugs!" Nadia shrieked, still giggling. Lisa gave a look of shock and exasperation before bursting with laughter.

"Oh my God, Miles, what do you teach our kids when I'm not here?" Miles shrugged in response, smirking at his daughter. "It's true" He grinned, giving Nadia another kiss on the forehead.

A whine in the next room escalated into a cry, and Lisa cringed. "Fine then, Mrs. Ogre will be cooking breakfast instead." She motioned towards the crying. "You take care of Jake."

Before he could walk pass her, he received another flick to the forehead. "Hey!" He complained, half-laughing.

"Don't teach them any other nicknames for me, especially Jake, you hear?"

"I won't make any promises," He smiled, dodging a punch to the side. "Woah, I'm holding Nadia!" He laughed, before being chased into the next room.

"You're such a dork!" She laughed, before giving up and skipping down the steps to prepare the food.

Things couldn't have been any better.

* * *

 **May 9th, 2013 2:10PM**

* * *

 **A/N: Lisa gets _around_! XD Sorry for the short chapter... I was hoping to do Mile's backstory in one chapter, but it was getting too long, so I decided to cut it in two. This is the good half! Next time, we find out Miles' reasons for sneaking into the Asylum!**


	10. The things you've done

"Are you sure you should be posting that?" A hand appeared on his shoulder, causing him to nearly fall out of his chair.

"God, Lisa, what the hell?" He swatted her hand away, chuckling nervously. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry," She sighed, looking back at the computer monitor. "'The Devil's Bargain'," She read aloud. "'How Murkoff Turned the Global Water Crisis into a Billion Dollar Revenue Stream'." She gave Miles a sideways look. "Quite a mouthful, don't you think?"

"Oh, shut up," He rolled his eyes, turning his chair back to the monitor. He was just about finished editing it before being interrupted.

Murkoff was a big-shot company that was well known for its' exploitation of the less fortunate, but because they targeted foreign countries and territories, it was difficult for the U.S. to get involved. Recently, they had reopened an asylum on American soil, Mount Massive, and have been conducting what most would call unethical actions. Miles had gotten wind of these issues from an old family friend, Mrs. Hope, who'd filed a lawsuit against the company back in 2009 for not updating her on her son's status, whom she had committed earlier that year.

He hadn't accumulated enough data on the asylum to do any damage to the company, but this article would at least halt their actions to a degree. It might give him the advantage he needed over them- to get them to slip up. The least it would do is bring attention to the company, which would have been a victory in its' own right.

"Hey," A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Massaging his shoulders, Lisa chimed. "We still haven't come up with a name for the baby." He turned around, giving her confused look.

"Really? You bring this up now of all times?"

"If you do, I'll let you post that article" He stared at her, dumbfounded.

"I'd still post it anywa-" She placed her finger on the 'delete' key

"Hey,- wait!" He flailed about, eyes wide. "You win, you win!- just-" She laughed at his expense, before removing her hand and sitting on his lap. "You're such a dick," he pouted.

"That's ironic" She smiled, cupping her belly. "Here," she guided his hands onto her own. "You can feel em' kicking"

He was still amazed that he had kids to begin with. When they were younger, he always joked about how he'd never have kids, and it would be just the two of them forever and ever, and they'd die an old angry couple and share a coffin together. Now he couldn't imagine life without them. Funny how life never goes the way you planned it would.

He felt a nudge and gave a warm smile. "Hey there, sweetheart," He cooed, placing his cheek against Lisa's belly. "You're going to kick ass when you grow up" He smiled when he got a flick to the forehead.

"Don't curse to the kids!" Lisa hissed, before flicking him again.

"He can't even understand what we're saying!" Miles responded, finding the idea ridiculous.

" _She_ ," Lisa corrected.

"You took the test without me?" He furrowed his brow, feigning hurt.

"I was going to surprise you, but you were so focused on this damn article!" She flicked him again. Hard.

"Ow!" He blocked another barrage of flicks. "You're so immature!" He laughed, sitting up. "How about Abigal?"

"Too old"

"Ophelia?"

"What the hell? This isn't some medieval bullshit, Miles." She moved in to flick him again before he grabbed her wrist, slightly annoyed. She just contradicted herself about the 'cursing in front of kids', but he wasn't about to bring that up.

"You throw out some ideas, then"

"I don't know, how about Lisa 2.0?" She smiled at the thought.

"Wow, that's so shallow" Miles laughed out loud.

"Better than your ideas," She retorted.

"You're joking, right?" He scoffed. After a moment of thought, he spoke up again. "How about Faith?"

Lisa gave a moment of pause, too. Then she smiled. "Faith" She repeated. "It has a nice ring to it." She looked Miles in the eyes, speaking in a commanding voice. "Alright, you're good for now, but that doesn't mean we're done picking names, you hear?" Miles groaned in response. "I still don't think you should post that article though" She got up and headed to their bedroom.

It wasn't hard to understand why she'd be against it. Mile's articles have taken down at least 2 other major corporations, and each have caused them some sort of unwanted side-effects. One time, they'd gotten spam mail with viruses attached to them on every email they had, and it prevented Lisa and him from doing their Jobs for almost half a year. They almost had to sell their house before the cops got to the bottom of it.

His hand hovered over the 'post' button. It's not like anything worse than that could happen, right? He closed his eyes and clicked send before heading off to bed with Lisa.

* * *

 **July 12th, 2013**

* * *

It'd been a long day, and Miles had just gotten home from an interview. He'd just ran into the nanny as she took her leave, informing him that Nadia and Jake were fast asleep. Lisa would be home soon, and he'd decided on freshening up before she got home. He thought he'd surprise her with a gift, today being her birthday and all. He placed a bouquet and a box of chocolates on the counter before heading off to the showers.

It wasn't long after he turned on the showerheads when he heard shuffling in the other hallway. _Maybe the kids weren't asleep after all_. A clank and a door opening followed, causing Miles to smile. _Guess Lisa's home, too._ She usually gets home earlier, and he'd wanted to set up a little more before surprising her. _Surprise ruined_ , He sighed.

"Mommy?" He could decipher part of the conversation through the noise from the showerhead. Nadia had probably woken up from the sound of the water starting. Miles silently cursed himself for his carelessness.

"Where's daddy?" Jake woke up, too.

"Miles?" Another voice replied. Lisa. He thought he heard some urgency tangled in with his name, but brushed it off.

"I'm in the shower!" He shouted back, anticipating the response.

"Miles!?" Lisa's voice wasn't getting any closer, but it was picking up in intensity. Something was off. Something felt wrong. Just then, he swore he heard crying. Then a shriek. Glass breaking. Something was definitely wrong.

He turned off the shower and immediately threw on some clothes before bolting out of the room and down the stairway. "Lisa!" He called out, dashing through the house before arriving at the living room.

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter cut... Mile's story is probably the only one that I'm giving out at one time, lol. It's hard to describe and embody what's happening. Anyway, thanks for reading.**


	11. The Consequences

Blood. There was so much blood.

Across the room, Lisa was lying on the ground. Jake laid strewn across the floor as well. They were laying in a pool of blood, though it looked like too much to be their own. Their was blood splattered everywhere, on everything. Bits and pieces of vases and other masonry they had fallen over, shattering on the ground. It looked like a scene from a horror film, which oddly relieved Miles. If it was like a horror film, then it couldn't be real, could it?

He dashed across the room and lifted Jake from the ground, checking for a pulse. "Jake? Jake! Wake up!" He was sobbing now. Who would do this? He leaned over Lisa. "Hey," He tried for a reassuring tone, as if it would help. "Hey... Lisa, this isn't funny," He wanted to wake up. "Please tell me this is a joke." He placed his forehead against hers. "We were supposed to grow old together, remember?" A pulse. "Lisa!?" He shook her now. Still no response. _Nadia._

Where was Nadia? He got up, eyes darting around the room. "Nadia!" He shouted. "God- Nadia!? Where are you!?" He ran in loops around the home, searching everywhere he could think of. "Nadia?" He sniffed, defeated. He ended up back in living room where the slaughter happened. He placed his bloody hands on his face. How much time had passed? The blood on the floor was getting sticky. A white slip of paper along with a pen he hadn't noticed before was lying before the bodies. He picked it up shakily, before unfolding and reading it.

'Someone's been telling stories outside of class. The next article you right might end up getting to the rest of your extended family.' He stared at the sheet. "What the hell?" He looked around for a signature, as if the assailant would be dumb enough to leave one. He found the letters hiding beneath his thumb. 'Murkoff'.

 _The cops!_ He whipped out his phone, dialing furiously.

It felt like an eternity of pacing around before the other end picked up.

"911, what's your emergency?" A woman spoke.

"S-someone broke into m-my home." He paused to look at the bodies. "They killed my son, a-and my daughter is missing"

* * *

They went back and forth- she asked questions, and he answered the best he could- for a while longer before the police arrived. From all the blood splattered on him, the cops almost shot him, thinking he was the assailant. When they realized who he was, they apologized before stepping into the scene. He could hear the sounds of disgust they made as they entered, covering their noses and muttering profanities.

They had told him not to touch or move anything, so he stayed crouched beside Lisa and Jake until they came. He held onto Lisa and Jake's hands, feeling for any signs of life. Lisa's was still warm, he could feel her pulse. Jake's was cold as ice.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," An officer spoke up behind him. How could he?

What came next happened in a blur. He'd refused to leave their side, and had to be dragged away from the scene. They told him he couldn't come home for a few weeks, so that they could investigate the scene further. They said they'd update him when they found anything.

"It was Murkoff!" He remembered telling them, before handing over the slip and pen to them as evidence. The investigator he handed it to only scoffed and shook his head.

An ambulance arrived to take the bodies soon after. After some weak negotiations, hesitated looks and desperate gazes, they'd allowed Miles to ride with them. He held Lisa's hands the whole way to the hospital. She was the only one left right now- the only one he was sure of, anyway. He didn't think Nadia was dead. He couldn't. He'd told himself that she'd somehow escaped, and would come back.

When they arrived, Lisa was rushed into the Emergency Room, due to the amount of blood that their was. The hospital staff had issues with him being their, all bloody and stricken, as he might scare the other visitors, but allowed him to stay nonetheless. It was hours before some nurse holding a clipboard came out to bring him the news.

They had a worried expression on their face. From his bloody clothes or Lisa's condition, he didn't know, and frankly, he wouldn't be bothered if it were the former.

"Miles, right? Upshur?"

"That would be me" He managed.

He'd thought about the events that had occurred that night. He couldn't help but feel responsible. Murkoff had made it clear over a number of emails that they didn't appreciate what he was writing about them, but he ignored them all and considered them empty threats. What was worse was that nothing seemed to add up. Would they willingly risk being dragged into a court case and possibly go bankrupt just to get a reporter to shut up? The risk seemed too big- something Murkoff wouldn't have the guts to do.

"There seems to have been an issue wi-"

"An Issue? What happened?" A million questions were going through his mind before the nurse collected herself.

"Relax, Mr. Upshur, your wife is fine." She bites her lip, looking down at the clipboard in her hands.

"Thank God!" He ruffled his hand through his hair. It was a relief knowing she was fine after all that time. It didn't make the death of his son any less though.

"But-" She gathered her courage.

"What?" He snapped back to reality. There was a catch. Of course there was a catch- there was always a catch.

"She has no injuries, no bruises, scars, broken bones- she's in perfect condition, despite the amount of blood, but it would appear that she is currently in a comatose state."

The words hit him like a brick.

"How the hell does that make her fine!" He boomed. The nurse winced, as if he was about to hit her.

"Mr. Upshur, that isn't the issue!" Her voice was panicked, but she realized he wouldn't hurt her. "Don't you get it?" She tried in a more confident tone. "She's in _perfect condition._ " She let the insinuation settle in for a while.

"Wait..." His voice trembled. "You're saying ... Lisa did this?" He didn't know whether to be pissed, sad, or appalled. "How could yo-!"

"I'm not saying anything, Mr. Upshur" She took a small step backwards. "I'm just telling you what we know as of now. I know it sounds bad, but just imagine what others will think about this." She gave a little nod before turning back into the Emergency Room. "The doctor will fill you in on the rest," She pushed the doors open and stepped out of sight.

It took the doctor a few moments to get out, an exhausted look on her face. "Mr. Upshur, I presume?" She didn't wait for an answer. "There seems to be a complication."

"Complication being?" He didn't think he could take anymore bad news.

"Well, there have only been a handful of cases like this that have happened before in the U.S, and in each case, the survival rate has been very low." She gave him a blank look before realizing that she probably wasn't making any sense. "I'm talking about the baby, Mr. Upshur." The thought hadn't even occurred to him. "There have been some cases where the mother successfully delivered the baby, but the chances are still low. The baby still poses a threat to the mother's health, but it's too late in development for an abortion." She stopped to see how he would take the news.

"So...What am I supposed to do?" He ran his hand through his hair.

"You have two options: either allow the baby to be carried to full term, or terminate it before that can happen. Carrying it to full term can have many- how should I put it?- _adverse_ effects for the mother. There's also no telling how the delivery would effect her while she's in her coma. Abortion isn't an option, but we have other methods of terminating the baby. You could choose between a surgical procedure or a chemical injection, though each have their share of negative effects, they shouldn't be higher than your first option."

His shoulders sagged. "You're telling me to choose between my wife and our kid?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." She twirled her stethoscope between her fingers. "In case you wanted to know, the chances of survival for the baby are low as is. Unlike in the movies you see nowadays, comas don't actually last long- most last only a couple weeks to months. If you want my 'professional' opinion, I'd say it's best to terminate the baby. There are always other chances for children, but you only get one of her," With that, she left him to his thoughts.

* * *

They wheeled Lisa out to a Intensive Care Unit room, where she would be staying until she woke up. Miles decided to stay the night by her side, as he had nowhere to go. The doctors were again hesitant, but ended up letting him on the condition that he showered before lending him some clothes that had been donated.

His ringtone was what woke him up the next morning. He gazed at Lisa, who hadn't moved an inch since the staff put her there. He didn't recognize the number, but answered anyway. It was some type of authority speaking, regarding the evidence he provided.

"Am I speaking to a Mr. Upshur?" The voice inquired.

"I'm here" He couldn't help yawning. Yesterday had exhausted him both physically and mentally. He didn't know how much more he could take.

"Oh, well this is about the evidence you've provided earlier- there's been an issue." His heart sank.

"What _now?_ " He didn't think things could go any worse.

"We've checked the evidence- everything we could get out hands on- and scanned them through our databases, but we found no matches."

"What the hell? What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means: There's no 'evidence' that we can use. That note and pen that you gave us? No fingerprints, besides yours. There's no traces of gloves being used, either." Miles stayed silent, allowing the investigator to explain. "See, when someone commits a crime, they usually wear gloves to hide their fingerprints. That isn't true with our current technology _now_ , though. I won't go into detail on how that all works, but that isn't what you need to know. Gloves also leave imprints that we can use to track down a suspect, but in this case, we couldn't find evidence of one being used, and that's not the most concerning part." The investigator gave pause, awaiting a response.

It didn't make sense. None of it did. Miles caught on quickly. He knew where the conversation was going. "Go on," He said.

"There are no signs of forced entry," Was all the investigator stated.

Miles glanced over at Lisa, as if she'd overheard the conversation. "You think Lisa would do this?"

"We can't say for sure, but we're not going to be able to validate any suspects. It could have been someone trying to frame Murkoff for all we know."

"But who would-"

"Look, sir, we're sorry about what happened, but there's not much else we can do. We don't have the time or resources to be looking into a case where there's no real evidence. Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this, just not as soon as we'd want to. The case will be reopened when we have more to work with, if it makes you feel any better." He hung up before Miles could respond.

* * *

Miles looked into the mirror, staring into his bloodshot eyes. For the past several weeks, he'd been obsessing over the event, always ending up with no answers. He needed someone to blame, and the only thing for him to blame was from that note he found. _Murkoff_.

Jake was killed. Nadia was missing, and there was still no sign of her. It was like she just vanished. Lisa was still in a coma, and he didn't quite know whether to let be born and chance Lisa's life, or to have it terminated to ensure it.

 _Hope_ , He thought back. _How ironic_.

Now that he thought about it, it didn't seem so far-fetched. Murkoff was a pretty big company, and they're the world's leading suppliers of biometric security. They'd know how to cover their tracks, just like they've done elsewhere. He got too close to the truth, and so they tried to silence him. What he didn't get was why he wasn't just killed. It didn't matter, though. He'd lay waste Murkoff just as they destroyed his family. An eye for an eye.

"You've got to rob Paul to pay Peter," He found himself saying. They didn't feel like his words though. A cold breath escaped his lips.

The scenery around him suddenly changed. The walls became moldy and began falling apart. Cockroaches crawled out of the cracks. He was forced down onto some sort of chair, and his arms and legs wouldn't respond. His vision was forced into the mirror, and his reflection morphed into a withered man wearing nothing but a tattered apron, face-mask, and monocle over his right eye. It looked like he was in the middle of speaking.

"-And that's what I'm here for..." He walked over to a urinal and picked out a pair of bone shears, before turning back at Miles. "...to make you believe!"

* * *

 **A/N: I procrastinate too much. I felt like Miles didn't really have a reason to break into an asylum (the 'looking for evidence' argument holds little ground if the consequences of being caught are going to jail), and I didn't like how Miles didn't fight back when Trager was putting him into the wheelchair, so I turned it into him having a flashback in that time span. It was also a way to incorporate the third Lisa into the story... If you didn't get it the first time, there's more than one Lisa, and you probably aren't going to like the reason why. Also, expect infrequent updates.**


	12. Buddy!

**A/N: I'll probably have a backstory for all the major characters, and they're all basically just going to be rewrites of each other... sort of. This is kind of to set up the sides of the oncoming battle... have I said too much? Anyway, none of the backstories will be complete. Each will only be a segment of their lives which helps the plot progress, so that if I need anything else from the character, I can just go back to them and tell the rest. The more I leave out, the more opportunities I have for future story elements. :)**

* * *

 **10 minutes later**

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're you doing with my asset?" Marilese sat on a toppled desk across from him, crossing her arms.

"Oh, can it, you old bat," Trager replied, wheeling in his cart of tools. "He still has _those_ fingers," He said, sticking his middle fingers at her. _Crack!_ His fingers bent back at an abnormal angle. "Fuck, lady! What's wrong with you?!"

"Watch your tongue, boy," She snapped at him. "I didn't pick you off the streets so that you could run your mouth at me. Know your place."

"Lady, it was _sixty_ years ago, get over yourself!" He knew she didn't like being called by her first name- or any of her other names.

He flinched when she stood from her desk. "I got you into this position!" Her voice was becoming harsh.

"But you were found out! I got caught and put through the Engine!" He knew he shouldn't be yelling at her. He knew how dangerous she got when she was irritated, but he had to get things off his chest, and mutilating the patients wasn't as therapeutic as he thought it would be.

He blinked, and she was suddenly in front of him. She placed a hand on his cheek, causing him to flinch. Had he gone too far this time? _I'm so dead_ , He thought to himself.

Seconds passed, and by the time he realized he wasn't dead yet, she spoke up.

"Anyways," She stepped past him out to the hallway. "Have there been any new developments, yet? Martin hasn't been snooping around your territory, has he?"

He followed her out, scratching his head. He wasn't dead yet, so she probably needed him for something else. "He knows better than to go through my stuff," He scoffed. "Can't believe he actually bought your 'Gospel of Sand' bullshit."

She shrugged in response.

"Anyway," He coughed. "Word's been getting around the asylum; there's been some talk about some lady wandering around the asylum. I'm assuming that's your backup?"

She smirked at that. "Perceptive, as always. That's why I picked you, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, you told me that, what, a million times already?" She laughed at that. "Woah, you having an 'off day' or something?"

"Witty, too," She added, before stopping in her tracks and going stern. "About your... _current_ patient," She began. "Don't rough him up too much. I still need him to take down... you know?" She gestured towards the direction of the bathroom.

He nodded in understanding, before a loud clatter interrupted their conversation. "What the hell is it this time?" He turned back towards his holding rooms, placing a hand on his belt, where he usually kept his bone shears. "What the?" He turned to face Marilese.

"Here," She flicked her wrist, and the shears came flying down the hallway and into her hands. "Looks like you're busy, now," She sighed, passing him the shears. "I'll be paying a little visit to my dear old Wernicke, next." Her face contorted into an unnatural smile. "Give him the little victory speech, you know? Rub it in his face."

Her feet removed themselves from the ground as she levitated from it, before shooting down the hallway, causing shelves, desks, and paper to fly from their places.

He gulped. "Yeah," He laughed along nervously. "You do that." He frowned and turned away.

He hated when she used her power, and he hated it even more after he went through the engine. Now, every time she used it, he'd get an annoying static that rung though his skull.

* * *

His ears were still ringing when he walked into the room where he heard the ruckus.

"Trager! TRAGER!" One of the patients were screaming from their bed.

Executive. Patient. How thin the line that separated the two were.

"Shh, shhh," He hummed. "I see what's happening here," He placed his hand on the former executive's chest. "You're bored. You want a little attention. Perfectly understandable," He tightened his grip on the other man, and took out the bone shears with his free hand. "Well I'm here for you. I'll give you very special attention," He raised the shears above his head before plunging them into the other man's chest, eliciting a squeal of pain.

A whimper made its' way to his ears. _Ah, I almost forgot about my guest of honor_ , His smile turned crooked.

He turned in time to see his patient crouched against the double doors under the 'exit' sign. How did he escape? No time to think about it.

"Buddy!"

* * *

 **A/N: Instead of stuffing my chapters with crap-for-writing, I think I'll just put out extra unneeded or supplementary information into these author notes. I'll label them as 'extra info', or 'E/I' for short.**

 **E/I: Trager was living on the streets before Marilese found him and took him in. She had him worm his way through the Murkoff Corporation as one of their founders, so that he could act as her eyes and ears in the company, as well as keep an eye on Dr. Wernicke. He acts as her inside-man, hence the reason she knows her way around.**

 **He befriended Jeremy Blaire, since he was one of the only staff members that had a higher standing than himself. On one of his reports to Marilese on their project Walrider, he was caught and was put through The M E.**

 **How he was caught will be discussed.**


End file.
